The No How of Sam Winchester
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Lucifer wants his vessel, and he has no boundaries on how he's going to get it. More of a tag to "The No How of Dean Winchester" than a sequel. Hurt!Sam ProtectiveWorried!Dean please R
1. Chapter 1

**The No How of Sam Winchester**

Sam was asleep when it started. Dreaming, actually.

Jessica stood in front of him, smiling.

"Tell Him yes, Sam," She said sweetly. "Please. It will be so much easier for you now than it will be later." He shook his head.

"No," He said. "Jessica, you don't understand. I can't. I won't. Do you know what it'll do to everyone if I do?"

"Say yes." He missed her voice so much. Just the sight of her was enough to drive him crazy. But her features were slowly becoming distorted. Demonic.

He shook his head again.

"No. You're not Jessica. I won't say yes to you." He said firmly.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sam," A voice said behind him. He spun around, unsurprised to see Lucifer there. "But not as sorry as you'll be." He disappeared. Sam turned back around, looking for Jessica, but she was gone. Ruby had taken her place.

"Hey there, Sam," She grinned. She had her pocket knife open in her hand. Still smiling, her black eyes gleaming, she cut her wrist. "Wanna drink?"

Sam could smell it. His heart pounded, eyes dilating. She was coming toward him, bringing it closer.

"No, get away," He said, backing up. "Stay away from me."

"But Sam," She whined. "We had _so_ much fun together. And look at you. Weak, helpless, sloppy. I can make you strong again. I can make it so you can help people again. You won't have to follow Dean around like some pathetic puppy. You can get rid of him, just like you want to. Remember when you choked him? Hm? How that felt, knowing that for once you were in control and not him. That he had to listen to you now? Or how about that great feeling of his life slowly draining out of him right under your hands? Felt good, didn't it?" Sam felt his stomach clench and his heart twist at the memory. He knew what that had done to Dean. And he knew how personal choking someone could be. He wondered if Dean was even over that.

He was backed against the wall, his face turned away from her.

"No. No, I won't. I don't want to hurt my brother. I'll _never_ hurt him again." He spat. She held up her bleeding wrist close to his face. He wanted it. God, did he want it. But he _would not_ drink it. He had sworn to himself. He had promised himself. And Dean. He'd promised Dean.

"You know you want it. Take it. I'm giving it to you because I care." He looked down at her, incredulous.

"You care? You used me. You don't give a damn about me. You just wanted to get Lucifer out. You made me a weapon. You don't care about me, and I hate you!" He said through gritted teeth. She smiled at him. Suddenly he was plastered to the wall, unable to move.

"It doesn't matter, Sammy," She forced her lips on his, making him grunt and try and turn away. "I'll make you drink." She grabbed his jaw hard, nails biting into his skin.

Sam fought her, keeping his mouth shut tight and remembering that the human jaw can apply 3,000 pounds of pressure.

He woke up. He was relieved for a moment, until he understood that the pain in his face hadn't gone away. Dean was leaning over him, lightly shaking his shoulder as if he were just trying to wake him up. He stopped when he saw Sam's eyes were open.

"Sammy, what's going on? You alright?" He asked, obviously concerned and worried

"I, I don't know," He said, feeling small drops of blood trickle down his face.

"You kept sayin' 'no'." Dean said quietly. Sam quickly told him what had happened in his dream.

"Your face is all beat up and you're bleeding. I don't think it was a dream. Dream _Root_ maybe but-"

"It's not Dream Root," Castiel said, appearing suddenly beside Dean. "It's much worse."

"What?" Dean asked, still getting over the angel's sudden appearance.

"Lucifer is in Sam's mind. And there are many ways of torment that he knows. He has access to Sam's memories and thoughts. He knows exactly how to hurt him. He knows what will do the most damage. And he will do whatever it takes for Sam to give in." He said grimly.

"What can he do to me?" Sam asked, voice shaky.

"Anything he wants. He wants his vessel, Sam. And he will do whatever it takes to get you to say yes." Castiel stated.

"Cas, do something," Dean said, sounding desperate. "Anything." Castiel bowed his head.

"I want to, please understand that, Dean, but I am powerless. If I were still connected to Heaven I might be able to help. But I can do nothing," He said quietly. "I'm sorry." Dean stood, looking irate and upset.

"Go find a way. Find a way to stop this, please! Get him out of Sam's head before he hurts him!" There was an edge in Dean's voice. He was begging.

Castiel nodded. "I'll see what I can do." And with a soft flutter he was gone.

Dean turned back to his brother, who looked equally afraid.

"What am I gonna do?" Sam asked. He looked so scared, and Dean hated that he could do nothing to make it better this time.

"Stay awake," Dean said. "Maybe he can't get you if you're awake."

"_It doesn't matter,"_ The voice was in Sam's head. _"I can get you anywhere." _

"Dean!" Sam's eyes were open, but he didn't see the motel room. The dirty carpet, the dingy curtains, the itchy bedspreads and Dean's frantic face melted away to a pitch black place. Ice cold, empty, endless. He was on his knees in this place, lost and alone.

"Tell me yes, Sam," Satan's voice echoed around him, shaking everything. He covered his ears, which were bleeding from the force of the sound. "It will be painless if you say yes right now."

"No! Sam yelled. "I won't give in to you! You son of a bitch!"

"I'm sorry to hear you say that. I really am."

Sam started to scream. His insides were on fire. He fell over, body jerking in spasms that were out of his control. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, sweating. "STOP! STOP IT! PLEASE!" He begged. Lucifer laughed.

The pain intensified. Sam didn't think that was even possible. Tears fell easily from his eyes. No sobs would come, he didn't have the strength or the option to actually cry. But he could scream.

"DEEEAAAANNN!" He screamed, begged. "HELP ME! PLEASE, DEAN, HELP ME!"

"It's okay, Sammy!" Dean assured, holding his hysterical brother. "What are you seein', huh?" He didn't know what to do. Sam's eyes were open but they were glazed and looked at nothing. He was screaming so harshly his voice was cracking, clutching his stomach, blood tricking from his ears and tears falling from his eyes.

"PLEASE!"

"Shh, Sammy, look at me! It's not real! What you're seeing is not real! Look at me, Sammy, please!"

"DEEEAANN!" He shrieked.

"I'm here, I'm right here, Sammy, I'm right here. Shh…Just wake up, please, wake up." He pleaded. Sam's face was red and wet, tears and blood on his cheeks. His veins stuck out in his neck and arms, voice growing hoarse from screaming. Dean had his arms clasped tightly around him, trying to keep him from hurting himself, if at all possible.

"Shhh, it's okay, Sammy, it's okay. Wake up. Please, God, Sam, wake up!"

"D-Dean?" Sam said, hearing his brother's voice in the black place.

"I'm here, Sammy, wake up…please." Colors came through the black. The motel room unfolded in front of him, leaving the dark-cold place behind him, but the pain stayed.

Dean was holding him so tight it almost hurt, looking tired and sick with worry.

"Sammy? Sammy can you hear me?"

Sam nodded as his relief was overcome by harsh pain. He groaned aloud and gripped his stomach. His insides bubbled and burned, squirming in agonizing knots. He gave a dry sob, too tired to scream any longer.

"It hurts," He whispered through tears. "It hurts so bad, Dean."

"What hurts, Sammy; what's wrong?" Dean asked frantically.

"Inside me…burns, so bad, Dean," He was crying again. "Please, help me, Dean. Please…" Dean wanted to help his little brother more than anything in the world. But he couldn't. He couldn't because he didn't know how.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy. You're gonna be alright. It'll stop, okay? It'll stop. Shh…" He soothed. It did stop. Minutes before sun up. Sam collapsed in relief, crying against his brother.

"It's okay, Sam, it's over now." Sam looked up at him, eyes swollen with tears, blood-shot and tired.

"You should go back to sleep, Sammy," Dean said. "You need to sleep." Sam shook his head, giving Dean those puppy eyes that hurt his heart.

"He can get me if I sleep," He choked. "He can hurt me, Dean. Don't let him hurt me, please!"

"Hey, hey, hey, easy," Dean said gently. "It's okay, Sammy. He won't hurt you, okay? You'll be alright." He doubted Sam would believe it. He didn't believe it himself, but it was the only comfort he could give.

Sam fought against his body's exhaustion for as long as he could. His eyes finally fell and they were too heavy to lift again.

He slept soundly, for awhile.

He was in a room made of stone this time. His wrists were clasped in tight manacles above his head. His torso was bare, exposed to the chilled air around him.

He stepped out of the shadows, torchlight flickering eerily off of his features, a thick, black leather rope in his hand.

"Tell me yes, Sam. Say yes. It'll be so much easier for you _and_ your brother if you say yes right now," The Devil said calmly, stepping closer to him. He looked at Sam almost as if he pitied him. "Sam, please, I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't," Sam grunted, tugging at the chains above his head. "Let me go."

"Say yes." Satan said simply.

"No." Sam shook his head. Lucifer sighed.

"Have it your way, then." He stepped behind Sam.

A warning snap rang through the room before Sam's back ruptured in agony.

One slice after another bit into his tender flesh. His back was ripped to shreds, the tips of the bullwhip catching his neck and cheeks.

Lucifer did not stop with his back. He came around to face Sam.

Sam's throat ached from even more shrieks that had torn from it. His back pulsed in time with his unsteady heart, beating an unsteady rhythm of anguish. He wanted Dean to wake him up again. Even if the pain continued he could endure with Dean there. But no such relief came.

"Last chance, Sam." Satan said firmly.

"No." He choked. Now he could see the whip coming at him, bloodied leather separating flesh from bone in places.

"DEEAA-AANN!" Sam bawled. "HELP ME!"

"Dean's not here, Sam," Lucifer said, his voice unusually gentle for someone hurting him so badly. "But I'll let you see him again. Only if you say yes."

Before Sam could fully shake his head the whip came at him in a horrible, blinding fury. When The Devil finally stopped Sam could barely move, his breath ragged and wet, sobs coming weakly but easily.

"Is this worth it, Sam? Is it worth this pain? Just say yes. Please, say yes. I really don't like hurting you like this."

The pain was so horrible Sam couldn't even see straight. He wanted this agony to end. He'd never endured something to this magnitude. Maybe he should…

"_SAM!" _The voice was distant, like an echo. _"Sammy!"_

"Dean?" Sam's voice was so quiet even Lucifer didn't hear it.

"_Sammy? Sammy, can you hear me?"_ TH stone started to fade away, just as the darkness had before.

"NO!" Lucifer snarled.

"Dean?"

Dean looked down at his little brother, who was drenched in blood, looking terrified. Dean's hand and arms were covered in it, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Sam's violent writhing had floored them both. His shirt was soaked in sweat and blood. His face was caked in a layer of the thick red liquid and tears. So much blood…

His eyes stayed open through the whole ordeal, wide and scared. Dean had tried to tell him that it was okay. That he was there and it would be alright, but he couldn't hear him.

"Dean?" Sam whimpered.

"Shh…It's okay, Sammy. It's okay."

"It hurts. It hurts so bad." Dean swallowed.

"It's okay, Sam. It's gonna be alright. I'm gonna make it stop, alright?" Sam's fingers were clenching Dean's arm so tight his knuckles were stark white.

He sobbed between gasps for air, trying to get past the agony that wracked his body.

"Sammy, I'm gonna get you cleaned up, okay? I'll make it go away, Sammy. I'll make it better." Dean whispered. He picked up Sam as carefully as he could.

Regardless, Sam whimpered in pain. Dean got Sam into the bathroom, both of them on her knees. Sam's head fell into the crook of Dean's neck, soft cries now muffled.

Dean gently peeled Sam's shirt from his red stained torso. Tears filled his eyes when he saw the deep wounds decorating his little brother's body. He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to vomit, a single tear trekking its way down his cheek.

"It's okay, Sammy. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be just fine. It's not even that bad." He assured. He turned on the shower behind him and got the rest of Sam's clothes off. He was even more careful now that he could see the extent of the wounds on Sam's bare body. He gently lifted his little brother into the tub and under the warm water. Sam sobbed once when the water first touched his raw skin. He hugged Dean, trying to get away from it.

"Hey, easy, Sammy, easy. I know, I know. Shh, I've gotta get this blood off of you alright? I know it doesn't feel too good, Sam. It's okay, it'll be over soon. Shh…" Dean leaned forward, getting Sam's upper half into the water, soaking his own arms. As a reaction Sam hugged Dean tighter, burying his face in his shirt.

"Shh, it's okay, Sammy. It's okay. I've got you. Shh…" He gently coaxed Sam's face up into the water. As the blood cleared Dean saw the wounds decorating Sam's face and neck.

"God, Sammy, what did he do to you?" He asked softly.

"He wh-whipped me." Sam whispered, as if he were afraid to say it too loudly. Dean felt a strange twinge of pain and hate. Pain for his brother's suffering and hate for the son of a bitch that had touched him.

Dean squeezed Sam closer out of reflex. He shut off the water and quickly toweled Sam off. He got him back on the bed, first aid kit out and open. He stitched up Sam's wounds and gave him some Tylenol to dull some of his pain.

Sam lied there once Dean had lowered his head back down onto the pillow. He stared at nothing, eyes bloodshot and swollen. Dean brushed his bangs from his eyes, just like he had since he was little.

"What am I g-gonna do, Dean?" Sam asked softly. "I c-can't sleep. He'll g-get me if I-I do. B-but he can get me when I'm a-awake too."

"I'll stay with you, Sammy. I'll find a way to help you. I promise." Dean assured, grabbing Sam's hand. "It'll be okay, Sam. It'll be alright."

If only…

Tbc…

--More soon! Please review. Poor Sam...--


	2. Chapter 2

--Do I have to say no Wincest intended? Well Im going to anyway. :) --

**The No How of Sam Winchester**

"It'll be okay, Sam. It'll be alright."

Sam looked up at him, lower lip trembling.

"What if it isn't? What if he doesn't leave me alone?" He asked. Dean sighed.

"Then you'll have to say yes eventually." He said simply.

"W-what?"

"I mean, you did start it anyway. You should have to suffer for that. I spent thirty years getting tortured. A couple hours shouldn't kill you. But you just _love_ to whine, don't ya?" Dean said coldly, letting Sam's hand go with a jerk.

"D-Dean what are y-you-?"

"Nobody else on the face of the planet matters. It's just you, you, you, isn't it, Sam?"

"Dean, I-" He cried out when Dean's fist struck his jaw, hard.

"Shut up!" Dean barked. "I am so sick of your bitching. And after everything I've done for you," He looked at Sam in disgust. "I've died for you, Sam, _died_. And how did you thank me, huh?!" He grabbed Sam by his hair and dragged him off the bed. "By runnin' off with some whore!" He punched Sam again, a few times. He kicked him hard in the ribs, splitting stitches open. Sam rolled across the floor more and more with each blow. He was crying, blood in his mouth.

Dean grabbed a handful of his hair again, forcing his face up.

"You chose her over me. You stopped caring about me. You never really understood what I went through down there. And it was all for you. I went to HELL for you!" He punched him in the face again. "If you wouldn't have been born Mom would still be alive. Dad too. It's your fault they're dead, Sam. It's your fault the apocalypse started." He hissed. Sam was crying softly, begging his brother with his eyes to stop hurting him. Every wound, new or old, was pulsating with agony. He didn't want Dean to hurt him, he wanted him to help him. He wanted him to hold him, like he was earlier. But that had all changed. Dean's expression was of pure loathing and disgust. And merciless.

"Dean, please, p-please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, please don't hurt me. Please, Dean, I'm sorry." He whimpered. Dean pretended like he didn't hear him.

"You know what pissed me off the most? You know what really hurt me?" Suddenly Dean's hands were around his throat, squeezing. Sam clutched at Dean's fingers, his face turning red, trying to breathe. Dean smiled an icy grin that scared Sam desperately.

"When you tried to kill me, Sam," He said. Tears fell from Sam's eyes. He tried to form the words to beg. But he couldn't even breathe. Dean laughed. "Now I know why you did it. It feels great." Sam whimpered, still scratching weakly at Dean's hands. Dean let him go, leaving Sam coughing hard on the floor, sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so-so sorry. Please, n-no more." He begged. Dean backhanded him.

"I wanna show you something, Sammy." He said, a glint in his eye Sam had never seen before. He grabbed Sam's hair and hauled him toward the bathroom. He struggled weakly, still crying.

"No, Dean, no, please no!" He pleaded. Dean threw him onto the linoleum laughing when his face struck. He picked Sam up by the back of his neck and slammed his chest into the side of the tub.

Sam gasped for air, coughing and sobbing, breath wheezing. The back of his neck was grabbed again.

"Something I learned down there, thanks to you. You wanna see how good I got at it?" He hissed in his ear. Sam looked at the icy water that filled the tub, heart pounding hard.

"Dean, please, no. Please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It's too late to be sorry."

Sam's head was submerged seconds later. His lungs tightened, the water surrounding him in a horrible vacuum of nothing. His chest hurt, his throat was going to cave in. Dean pulled his head out.

He gasped for air, coughing up blood and water.

Hours, maybe minutes passed by. And he was sure he was going to die by Dean's hand.

"Dean," He shuddered. "P-Please, d-d-don't. No m-m-more."

His head was shoved under again, and everything went black.

*

"Sammy, I'm not hurting you, Sammy, it's alright." Dean assured. Sam was drenched in water and blood. Dean had no idea how Sam had gotten wet, he'd been in Dean's arms the entire time.

"I'm not hurting you, Sammy, shh…" Dean soothed. Sam kept getting wetter and wetter, crying harder and harder, gasping for air every so often.

"Sammy, Sammy, what's he doing to you?!" Dean didn't know what to do. He felt so helpless, he had no idea how to help Sam, or if he even could.

"Dean," He shuddered. "P-Please, d-d-don't. No m-m-more." Sam whimpered.

"Sammy, I'm not doing anything, I promise. Shh…I'm not hurting you. Whatever you're seeing isn't real, Sammy. I swear. Shh… It's alright. Please, wake up, Sammy, shhh…"

Sam made the same gurgling sound he had been for the past twenty minutes. And then, out of nowhere he collapsed without a sound.

"Sam? SAMMY?!" He shook Sam's shoulders, checking for a pulse. It was small, but it was still there. "Sammy, wake up, wake up, please. Please wake up. C'mon Sammy."

Sam's eyes flickered open, swollen and bright with fever. Instantly he tried wriggling away from Dean.

"No, no, no, please, Dean don't. Don't hurt me, please!" He begged.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy, Sammy, easy. I won't hurt you. Why would I hurt you? I wouldn't do that, Sammy." He said gently. Sam shook his head, flinging drops of water.

"No, n-no, you hit me, and you, y-you choked me," He sobbed softly. Dean winced, looking at the reddish brown ligature marks on his little brother's neck. "And you, you shoved m-my head under w-water." Sam turned his face away from him, crying into the pillow and curling into a ball, anything to get away from him. Dean felt tears in his own eyes. Sam was trembling uncontrollably under the blanket, terrified of his older brother. And Dean didn't even do anything.

"Sammy, look at me, please," He said softly, gently coaxing Sam's face toward him. Sam resisted, whimpering but he did look. "Sammy, I would _never _hurt you. Never. How could I? You're my little brother, I can't hurt you, I'm supposed to protect you." Sam shut his eyes and tried to look away again, whimpering still.

"Hey, hey," Dean held his face between his hands. "I could _never_ hurt you, Sammy. I couldn't. What you saw _was not real._ He's trying to hurt you through me. I'd never hurt you Sam. I didn't do this to you, I swear." Tears were slipping down his cheeks against his well.

"Y-you didn't..?" Sam whispered. Dean shook his head.

"No, Sammy, I didn't. Please, let me clean you up, Sammy. Please, I won't hurt you."

"Dean." Sam sobbed. Dean hugged him carefully, trying not to hurt him.

"Shh…It's okay, Sammy. It's alright. Shh…"

He had to redo his stitches and wrap his ribs again.

Sam fell asleep hugging his brother. Who didn't hurt him.

Dean stayed awake, waiting for that son of a bitch to do something else to his little brother.

"How is he?" Castiel asked, abruptly appearing beside him. Dean was so used to sudden outbursts he didn't even jump.

"Shitty," He said hoarsely. "Did you find anything out?" He wanted to be hopeful, but there wasn't much hope to give.

"Yes," The angel said. Dean looked up at him. "Sam is the only one that can drive Lucifer out. He has to realize that Lucifer can't really hurt him unless he lets him."

"What do you mean he can't hurt him? Look at him, Cas!" Dean exclaimed. Castiel nodded.

"Dreams can't really hurt you, can they?" He said. Dean shook his head, wondering where he was going with this. "It's the same with Lucifer. As long as Sam believes the Devil can hurt him he will. You have to tell him that he can't. When he does that Lucifer will be cast out of his mind once more."

"Who told you that?" Dean asked. Castiel cleared his throat.

"I, uh, talked to Gabriel again." He said quietly.

"You didn't make a deal with him, did you?!" Dean asked frantically. Castiel shook his head.

"No, I, um, sort of persuaded the information out of him…with holy oil." He mumbled.

"Thank you," Dean whispered. "Thank you so much." Castiel nodded.

Sam uttered a very soft whimper, gripping Dean's arm a little tighter.

"Sammy, Sammy, listen to me, you can get him out, Sam," Dean said intensely. "Dreams can't hurt you, huh buddy? They can't hurt you. You hear me? They can't hurt you."

Sam shuddered, whimpering again. His eyes opened, but they were the same blank and glazed over ones that he'd had every time Satan hurt him.

"C'mon Sammy, get him outta there. Can you hear me, Sammy?"

"Dean…Help." Sam begged.

"You have to get him out of there, Sam, I can't. Fight him, Sammy. Fight him."

Sam looked around the dim warehouse, pulling weakly at the rope scraping his wrists.

"Where are you?!" He yelled, but his voice didn't sound as nearly as forceful as he would have liked. "You want me? Come get me!"

He could hear Dean's voice, but it was muffled and he couldn't make it out.

"Dean! Help me, please!" He pleaded, looking around fearfully. He was going to show up any second to hurt him some more. He was scared, very scared. But he would fight, because that's what he's supposed to do. Fight.

"Sam, how does this have to go on?" He appeared right in front of him. "How long do I have to hurt you before you'll simply give in? I could go as far as killing your brother, you know."

"No!" Sam shouted. "No, please, leave Dean alone. It's me you want, just me, leave Dean alone."

"_Dreams can't hurt you, Sammy!" _Dean's voice. _"He can't hurt you! Fight him, Sammy!" _

Sam looked up, and then looked at Lucifer, who was very angry.

"He _really_ shouldn't have done that."

Outside Sam's head, a blinding pain went into Dean's.

Dean screamed, unable to see or think. Castiel moved to him, completely lost as to what to do.

"SAAAAAMM!" Dean screamed, blood pouring out of his nose, his mouth and his ears. His arms wrapped tightly around Sam before he collapsed on the bed next him.

"DEAN!" Castiel yelled, scared.

Sam could hear Dean screaming. He lunged at Lucifer, being stopped by the ropes.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" He begged. "PLEASE! LEAVE HIM ALONE, HURT ME!"

"Say yes and Dean will live. Say no and, well…"

Dean's screaming intensified.

"STOP IT!" Sam screamed.

"_Sam, listen to me!" _That was Castiel. _"He can't hurt you unless you let him! Dreams can not hurt you!" _

Sam looked at him. The reason why he was in so much pain, the reason his brother was screaming in his ears.

"You can't hurt me," He said quietly. "You can't hurt me at all. You're not really here. Dreams can't hurt me. YOU CAN'T HURT ME!"

"Oh, really?" Lucifer clenched his fist, but nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. Sam smiled through the horrible pain that was starting to fade from his body, relieved.

"Yeah, now GET OUT OF MY HEEEAAADDD!" Lucifer disappeared; Sam woke up; Dean stopped screaming.

Sam looked at his brother, not feeling any pain at all. Dean's face was drenched in blood, but he seemed to be alright. Castiel was looking at both of them, obviously shaken up.

"Are you two alright?" He asked, voice shaky. Sam nodded, Dean did as well.

Sam looked at his arms where there had been bruises, felt his ribs that had been broken. They were fine.

Though Dean should theoretically have been dead from a brain aneurism he was fine, not even a headache.

"Thank God," He grunted, sitting up. "Well, thanks Cas." He revised. The angel nodded.

"If you're both okay, I'm going to go calm down before I give Jimmy a heart attack." He said stoically. In a blink he was gone.

Dean looked at his scared little brother, who was still breathing hard and looking around, bewildered.

"You alright?" He asked quietly. Sam nodded, sitting up without it hurting for the first time in four days.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"You scared the shit out of me." He said, even more quiet.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there. For helping me…even though I don't deserve it. Thank you." Sam said, finally meeting his eyes.

"You don't deserve..? Sammy, what did you expect me to do? Sit there and watch you suffer? I can't do that, Sammy. You're my little brother, I'd do anything for you." He said. Sam folded his hands and looked down at them.

"What if he comes back? What if he tries something else?" He whispered.

"Then we'll fight him just like we did this time. You're not gonna do it alone. I'll be there to help you no matter what, okay?" Dean assured.

"I'm scared, Dean," Sam swallowed hard. "I'm really scared." Dean clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"I know. I know, Sammy. I am too. But I will fight this son of a bitch with you tooth and nail with you until I go down. I promise." He said.

Sam smiled painfully at him.

"And I'll fight Michael, with you." He said.

They both knew that either of these fights would probably kill one or both of them. But they'd do it together.

**End**

--Please review and thank you for reading!--


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